


Everywhere and Everywhen

by kilodalton



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (1963), Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-25
Updated: 2014-02-25
Packaged: 2018-01-13 19:13:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1237822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kilodalton/pseuds/kilodalton
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sarah Jane's many goodbyes with the Doctor, and his goodbyes with her</p>
            </blockquote>





	Everywhere and Everywhen

**Author's Note:**

> For the LJ ficathon at inmemoryofsjs

The first time he died — well, she thought he’d died— he had simply turned around, gotten into the TARDIS and flown away, crystal in hand. She felt frozen in place, watching him depart, maybe for the last time. She hadn’t wanted him to go, and had told him as much: she knew what would happen to him. As he walked towards his own demise, he didn’t even tell her goodbye — she’d soon get quite used to that, though. He’d been ready to face his own destruction to bring the stone back to Metebelis III: for what purpose, she didn’t know, he hadn’t told her — though she’d soon get used to that, too.

None of it mattered, however: she trusted in him. She secretly trusted in him to do the impossible and come back, even.

She waited, with hope. Fifteen minutes.

And she waited longer, with some hope. Five hours.

And still she waited, hope all but faded away. Three entire weeks.

She stopped waiting only when she heard the materialization sequence of the TARDIS. Her fears for him were only momentarily allayed as he spoke of conquering his own fears, and then …

~~

The second time he died, it had been so quick. She had almost smiled at him, shocked and relieved that he had come back, alive!! — and then he’d stumbled into her arms and fell to the ground as she’d lost her grip on his velvet jacket.

Her fear changed to despair … and then he’d changed, too.

It wasn’t until years later that she realized she hadn’t even had time to grieve him.

~~

The third time he died, lying broken at the base of a tall tower, she wasn’t with him anymore. But he thought of her in his last moments all the same. Young and laughing and carefree … she would always be those things to him.

He never knew it, but she still thought of him every day, with some hope.

After all, he had never said it was goodbye …

~~

The fourth time he died, as well as the fifthsixthseventheighth and ninth times, she seemed so incredibly far away from him … hundreds of years had passed for him, perhaps she had forgotten all about him. He knew in his hearts that she had created an excellent life for herself on Earth, she was fantastic, after all. And even she would admit she had a brilliant life, she really did …

… but still, she thought of him every day, hope all but faded away.

After all, he had left without even saying goodbye.

~~

The tenth time he died, she knew by the look in his eyes what was happening to him … and what had almost happened to her son. Beneath his veneer of stoicism lay fear … and despair. But even so, even as his own life was coming to a rapid end, he made sure her son wouldn’t be joining him in that fate.

Once again, he had simply turned around, gotten into the TARDIS and flown away.

She hadn’t wanted him to go, but this time she knew better than to tell him as much, as she stood, once again frozen in place, watching him depart, maybe for the last time.

Again, he didn’t tell her what happened, although this time he waved as if giving her a goodbye.

Still, she hoped …

~~

The eleventh time he died — well, she thought he’d died — a small part of her wouldn’t believe it. The flowers, the eulogy, the guests — it was too proper, too human, too out of place. By now she was an expert in losing him. She’d gotten to know his deaths quite well, and this did not feel like his death.

She was right.

Before she left the TARDIS for the last time, she asked him if she would be able to feel it when he died — when he really, truly died. She had thought the question daft and was almost too embarrassed to ask him. He pondered it and said he thought yes, maybe, one day if …

~~

… the universe shivered.

When her own life was coming to an end, she wasn’t with him anymore. She didn’t call him, she didn’t make a fuss: her stoicism and fear was for herself alone. But she thought of him in her last moments, as a single strand of time grew bigger, brighter, almost exploding like a firework from the sheer force of its joy and vibrancy, before slowly turning and fading away, itself departing for the last time and flying away within the vortex.

Young and laughing and carefree … she still was those things to him. She would always be those things.

She never knew it, but he still thought of her every day, too.

~~

There’s a cemetery in Ealing, not far from Bannerman Road. It’s quiet and calm: a proper human resting place. The gravestone says “Loving Mother, Loving Friend” … and just below that, in a perfect and small sonic’d script are the words “my Sarah Jane,” left there by a remarkable man who only recently learned how to resonate marble. He only recently learned to conquer yet another fear and come here, too.

It’s a peaceful place. But she’s not here, not really. She’s a Child of Time, and like time itself she is everywhere and everywhen:

Tomorrow she faces down Davros one last time in the Medusa Cascade, just as yesterday she led slaves to freedom from a rocket ship on Skaro. She witnesses the genocide of the Daleks just as she witnessed their genesis. In 30,000 years she battles antimatter on Zeta Minor, just as in the past she battled Slitheen on Earth and Cybermen on Voga. She never quite leaves him, either: she helps five of him escape from the Death Zone on Gallifrey. As the first him regenerates into the fifth him, a new first him follows and escapes with her help as well: and on and on, an endless chain within an endless loop. And she is always there for him, she will always be there: she will always help him, any him.

Time itself is still teeming with Sarah Jane: joyful, vibrant, young, laughing, carefree … and alive. And as he had wanted to tell her himself such a long time ago, before fading away and regenerating again within his own endless chain: _where there's life there's_ — always, always hope.

* * *

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.  
  
This story archived at <http://www.whofic.com/viewstory.php?sid=42071>


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